Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again
by Diva'sDream
Summary: Danielle visits her father’s grave one night, after being treated very cruelly that day by her stepsisters and stepmother, and she grieves over the loss of him.


**Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again**

**An "Ever After" Songfic**

_By: Diva'sDream_

**Disclaimer: **No, people, I don't own the movie "Ever After" or the song "Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again". The song is from "The Phantom of the Opera" by Andrew Lloyd Webber and the movie is…owned by…some company? Ummm…anyway…on with the story already!

**Summary: **Danielle visits her father's grave one night, after being treated very cruelly that day by her stepsisters and stepmother, and she grieves over the loss of him.

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The full moon shone gently over the land, and the breeze blew gently. It was a beautiful night, full of stars and singing crickets and such. All was very still and peaceful. It was a wonder how anyone could ever be upset on a lovely night such as this, and yet someone definitely was at the moment, despite the tranquil calm of that glorious spring night.

Danielle De Barbarac walked down a small dirt path in the woods, her face tearstained from all the tears she had shed that day. She knew she would get into big trouble and no doubt be punished severely if she were caught outside, but she couldn't quite help herself. Sure, she'd been ordered to stay in her room by her stepmother, but she desperately wanted… no… she desperately _needed_ to go to where she was headed to now. Her sanity depended on it at the moment.

That day had been a horrid one, even by Danielle's standards. It was the anniversary of her father's death, and it was almost as if she'd had a storm cloud hanging above her head all day long. She had a short temper that day. And, unfortunately, so did her stepmother, the Baroness Rodmilla De Gent, and that had been her major problem all day long.

Maybe it wouldn't have been quite as bad if she'd simply just taken the scolding after scolding she got throughout the day for the smallest things one could think of quietly. But, sadly, that hadn't been the case. Danielle was easily provoked after about the fifth verbal reprimand and had been quick to show her temper. Her backtalk towards Rodmilla had earned her a harsh lashing and got her locked in her room after her wounds were treated properly by her stepsister, Jacqueline, the kinder member of her "family".

Danielle had stayed there for hours, crying her eyes out. Then, as night fell and everyone else went to bed, Danielle quietly snuck out her window and away from the manor for the time being. She'd returned, yes, for she wasn't running away or anything. She couldn't do that. She'd have nowhere else to go and she had to stay for her friends back there, Paulette, Louise, Gustav, and the others she knew. She couldn't leave them behind. No, she wasn't running. Danielle was simply visiting with someone very close to her heart.

Danielle seemed lost deep in thought as she walked, though it wouldn't have mattered whether she was really paying attention to where she was going or not. She knew the way there like the back of her hand, and could almost journey to the exact spot blindfolded or in her sleep. She thought of the good times she'd had with her father, before he'd met the baroness, and before he died. Danielle smiled at those memories—playing with her father in the meadow near her home, both of them laughing, him picking her up and swinging her around in circles, then holding her close in his arms and telling her how much he loved her, him reading to her before bed and telling her stories, him laughing and joking about how she always tended to act more like one of the little boys in town such as Gustav more than the little lady that she was "supposed" to be, him telling her how much she looked like her mother when she smiled or laughed—though her smile was a sad one.

_You were once my one companion. _

_  
You were all that mattered.  
_

_You were once a friend and father—__  
_

_Then my world was shattered._

He'd been one of her best friends in the entire world, save for Gustav, and he'd definitely been the most important thing in little Danielle's life. He was more than just the only parental figure she could ever remember having, since her mother had been dead since before she could remember; he was more than just a father to her; he was also her friend and constant companion. And when he died…everything just seemed to fall apart on her.

"_No! Papa!"_

The memory of his death, the way she screamed for him, the way she begged him not to leave her—all of these things then rang in Danielle's mind as she walked. But, being the brave soul that she was, the young brunette simply shook those thoughts away, refused to let lose the tears that were threatening to fall, and just kept walking.

"Be strong, Danielle. Just be strong. You're almost there."

Danielle, instead of dwelling on these negative memories, forced herself to think about the nicer memories she had of her father once again, hoping that'd work. She thought of the evenings they spent together by the fire, while her father "Utopia" to her while she sat on his lap in a rocking chair. They rocked back and forth, Danielle falling asleep to the gentle sound of her father's voice It did, in a way, help her to think of these things, for the urge to cry had gone away for the most part, but it also only succeeded in making her miss him and want him back even more.

_Wishing you were somehow here again; _

Wishing you were somehow near.

_Sometimes it seemed if I just dreamed,__  
_

_Somehow you would be here..._

Oh how she wished for her father to come back to her again, though Danielle knew that it was impossible, no matter how much she hated to admit it.

Sometimes, she'd dream of him, coming back and taking her away from that God-awful place she was forced to live in, and it'd seem so real to her, that she used to think that maybe…maybe he really _would _come back to her, if only she just dreamed enough…wished hard enough.

Wishing I could hear your voice again,

_  
Knowing that I never would._

_  
Dreaming of you won't help me to do…_

All that you dreamed I could.

She could almost hear his joyous voice now as she continued on her journey, and she smiled at the way she remembered it sounding, loving the sound of his voice dearly.

"_I would rather hear his voice again than any sound in the world."_

Danielle always said that, most of the time to only herself, and now, as she continued down the path past all of the trees and fallen branches, she whispered it once again to herself, taking a deep sigh as she did. But, sadly, she knew that'd never be. The woman knew very well that she'd never again be able to hear the sound of her father's voice, no matter how badly she wanted to.

And also, no matter how much she may want that to happen, she didn't allow herself to dwell on that. She _couldn't_. She could dream of him and wish to hear the sweet sound of his voice all she wanted, and though it _would _make her feel good for the time being, it wouldn't help her to be what he'd always wanted—for her to just be the best person she could be. Dwelling on those longings, though however much she hated to admit it, wouldn't help her to achieve all that she could be.

"I miss you, Papa," she now whispered to herself, stepping on a twig as she walked, which gave a light _snap_ under her foot. "I always have…and I, no doubt, always will." She took in a deep breath and looked around, having come to the small cemetery where he was buried. "And, I truly hope that you are proud, Papa, of the woman I've become."

And, having said that, she took another deep, calming breath, though one full of anticipation, and then entered the dreary cemetery.

_Passing bells and sculpted angels, _

_  
Cold and monumental,_

_  
Seem, for you, the wrong companions—_

You were warm and gentle.

Danielle walked silently past all of the other graves, occasionally turning her head to look at them as she past them by. The graves were a beautiful sight, in a way—angels and bells and numerous other designs covered the area.

It was beautiful, but at the same time…too big to avoid having people feel small and out of place and almost uncomfortable around, and indifferent and unwelcoming, like these sculptures and statues were simply there to ward off anyone else from coming near.

"So unlike Papa…" Danielle whispered quietly to herself as these thoughts crossed her mind, almost not realizing that those words had just come out of her mouth. But now, as she thought about those words, she realized how right the statement was, how accurate the words sounded when said out loud.

It seemed so odd that these were the things that now surrounded her father. It didn't seem right, for some reason. These things were huge and almost ominous, while he himself was always warmhearted and kind and loving…always tender and placid… It kind of made him almost seem out of place amongst these statues. It seemed almost like he should've been buried somewhere lighter and cheerier…like a meadow similar to the one he and Danielle played in when she was young.

_Too many years fighting back tears. _

Why can't the past just die ...?

Danielle stopped then, staring at one grave in particular. She'd finally arrived. This was it. This was her father's grave. The young woman sank slowly to her knees in front of it, trying her best not to cry, the leaves rustling gently underneath her as she settled herself.

She'd spent almost her entire life fighting to withhold the tears that had been building up inside of her for so long. And now, as she knelt down, staring at the final resting place of her father, Danielle could no longer hold back those tears. And so, finally, after a long time of having so many tears built up that not even the good cry she'd had earlier that day seemed to work fully, they fell, like small streams running down her face.

Sometimes, Danielle wondered why she was plagued with the memories of his death over and over again, why she was cursed with the memories of him when she didn't want them to come or couldn't handle them. Sometimes, she just wanted those memories to die, along with the pain. She always used to ask herself why her tragic past couldn't just die and leave her alone for once, why it couldn't just seem to disappear forever, even if only for just a little while. Why couldn't the pain ever just leave Danielle be.

"…This pain will never leave me...will it? …I shall have to live with this pain…for the rest of my life…won't I…?"

_Wishing you were somehow here again, _

Knowing we must say goodbye.

_Try to forgive,_

_Teach me to live,__  
_

_Give me the strength to try._

And the worst part of all her pain…? Well, that was obvious. The worst part was that Danielle never really got to say goodbye to him. She was there when he died, yes, but she never really told him goodbye. She was too upset, too caught up in what was happening at the moment, being only a child going through a great trauma, to really be able to think enough to say her goodbyes to him before it was too late.

Sometimes…sometimes she wished he would come back, just for a little while, just so she could tell him what she'd been unable to tell him before—goodbye.

Although, despite this longing for his return, his death did teach Danielle many things. He taught her how to forgive others for what they do to her…which is how she's managed to live so long with her stepfamily, despite everything they've done to her in the past. It's taught her how to truly appreciate life and appreciate what she has. For all she knew, everything she had left in the world could be taken from her at any moment.

And, most importantly, it gave her the strength she needed to carry on, and to try her hardest to get what she wants and to never give up on her dreams. He wouldn't want her to do that, and every time she was tempted to surrender, she just thought of that fact, and it renewed her vitality, replenished her life and her will to live and to love.

"Thank you, Papa," Danielle whispered through choking tears, laying down a single flower on his grave as the tears continued to fall. She then gently laid her hands on the dirt and stared at his tombstone. "Thank you for teaching me how to survive."

_No more memories, _

No more silent tears,

_No more gazing across the wasted years.__  
_

_Help me say goodbye…_

Danielle hadn't visited her father's grave in a long time, and up until now, she hadn't had the courage to do what she was about to do now. True, she hadn't been able to say goodbye to him now, but that didn't mean that she still couldn't. And so, with that, she laid something else down at his grave. It was a little bracelet he'd gotten for her when she was little. She'd always loved this gift with all her heart, and she thought that this would be the perfect place for it.

She made a very important decision right then and there. Danielle was through with her grieving. She was through dwelling on the reminiscences of the day of his death. She was through with crying silent, invisible tears that could never be seen. And, she was through with dwelling on the past and all the pain it'd managed to bring her since her father's passing, mostly courtesy of her stepmother and stepsister, Marguerite, only to be softened just the slightest bit by the kindness of her other stepsister, Jacqueline.

It was time to say goodbye. But she couldn't do that on her own. She needed help. She needed her father. "Please, Papa," Danielle whispered, ghosting a gentle finger over the bracelet on the ground and then on the flower, her eyes full of pain and sadness. "Help me to say goodbye. Please, help me to move on."

Almost as if in answer to her prayer, a soft wind suddenly blew through the trees, ruffling her hair ever so slightly. And, for some reason unknown to her, that breeze for some reason seemed to give Danielle a sense of calm, a sense of relief. The girl took it as a sign. Her father was trying to tell her something—that everything was alright, and that he still loved her, even in death.

Another tear rolled down Danielle's cheek, then. But this one wasn't a tear of sadness. It was of joy, of great liberation. Finally, for once in her life, she felt that she'd finally been able to say goodbye to the father she'd lost way too early, that everything was finally set right again. She'd finally gotten her chance to say goodbye to him, and she felt like her soul had just been freed from some captivity it'd been under for that past decade or so.

"Thank you, Papa."

_Help me say goodbye…_

"Thank you…"

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**A/N: **I hope you liked this story. It's my first "Ever After" fanfic. And yes, people, some of the lines in here are from the movie. I don't own them. No flames, please. I worked very hard on this story. Please R&R. Thanks, everyone!


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